


Ars Moriendi

by TheNevemore



Category: Boys Republic (Band), K-pop, VIXX, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff, I promise it's way happier than these tags make it sound, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, learning to love again, tags will be updated as necessary, the violence pops up mainly in one chapter, which I'll tag if you want to skip it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNevemore/pseuds/TheNevemore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of his scholarship, his job, and his soulmate, Jungkook wanted nothing more than to die. But sometimes, even vampires can learn to live again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ars Moriendi

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a vampire fic for ages now, but... well, let's just say it took the right support system to get around to it. I might add more to this, if there's an interest in it. I guess we'll see.
> 
> Shoutout to dansunrevelucide, whose vampire art on Tumblr first gave me the idea for this fic.

 

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To feel the cold would have been a relief. It would have sunk into the pale surface of his flesh, easing past the layers of his clothing until it had fused to his bones, until nothing remained but the bliss before that last, shuddering breath. He would have found warmth and peace there in the midst of the snow; he would have found the sun again. But instead, his flesh was like as impervious to the weather as the uncaring mountains. With time, yes, it would weather him away until nothing remained, but oh it would take time. More time than he wanted it to. Not even wandering into the heart of a blizzard, snow so thick it painted the inky darkness of the night a brilliant shade of white, was enough to end his miserable existence. The curse of immortality.

Jungkook sighed. He had thought that dying would be a relief, but he had simply not counted on his death coming at the hands of a vampire. Walking home late one night after a dance performance, he had simply stopped to tie his shoe when he had been attacked. All he could remember was the sharp feeling of being pressed into the cement, his body turning cold, and the smell of synthetic lavender. When he had woken, he had been officially declared undead, issued a death certificate, and fired from his work. His mother had tried to be as encouraging as possible, but the tremor in her voice and the way she couldn’t look him in the eye spoke volumes. He was no longer her precious little Jeongguk. That was why he had changed the spelling of his name: To represent his new unlife.

But there had been a greater penalty for turning than losing his job and becoming a “sensitive subject” in his family. His heart ached to so much as think of warm tan skin, a bright smile, crescented eyes, and a high-pitched giggle he had only ever heard in his dreams. Pausing in the snow, Jungkook looked down at his wrist. An empty breath shuddered past his lips. Having died at twenty, he only had two of the characters of his soulmate’s name pressed into the skin there: Park Ji. The vampire’s large, brown eyes swelled with tears that froze to the thick ends of his eyelashes at the sight of the carefully printed letters.

Shaking his head, he stumbled forward on unsteady legs. The weeks of starvation were catching up with him: The hard muscles he had spent so much of his adolescence developing had turned to nothingness as his body had begun to feed on itself. He had almost no strength left in his body, and yet he kept stumbling on. Jungkook did not understand why he had decided to come here – to the middle of nowhere – to die. In fact, it went quite against his plans to die safely tucked in his bed, which would let his parents at last be able to mourn their son and move on. The day before, though, he had been overwhelmed with the burning need to _come,_ and it had brought him to the edge of canyon with snow too deep for his car. Abandoning it, he had simply started walking through the snow, wondering to himself if his mind had started to go or if there was some sort of vampiric homing signal drawing him to an isolated place to die. Either way, it seemed his time was just about out. The edges of his vision were hemmed in black, and he had been unable to walk in a straight line for the past two hours.

He wanted to believe he tripped over a stray root or rock hidden under the snow, but Jungkook knew the truth of it. His legs had simply given out. Crumpling in a heap, he shuddered as the realization that he would die there sunk in. There was a part of him that appreciated the fact he was at least dying somewhere beautiful; maybe it would help his soul find its rest. Jungkook let the snow embrace him as the winds began to drive the drifts to cover his body, slowly but surely erasing the dark stain of his blackened blood and contorted body from the landscape. Closing his eyes, he began to let his thoughts drift back to the soulmate he would never meet. He wondered if his mysterious Park Ji had found his own sort of rest. If he had been happy. If he had lived his dreams or if he had put everything on hold for that abortive someday when he would meet his soulmate. Jungkook hoped it was the former, but knowing their society… Well, what did it matter?

A shudder twitched through his body, startling him from his thoughts. Goosebumps began to appear across the surface of his skin, and an answering frown drew itself on Jungkook’s features. Lifting a shaking arm, he pulled back the sweater sleeve to examine the strange spread of bumps across his skin. He had not gotten goose bumps since he had been turned – the Internet claimed it was because vampires could not produce adrenalin unless in the company of a more powerful predator, which was an impossibility in their world. He’d accepted that information as truth, but there were the goose bumps, flouting everything he thought he knew about his kind. But what else could have caused the reaction? It certainly wouldn’t be the cold causing his skin to react that way. 

It was then he saw them: two eyes the color of polished jet seemingly suspended in the air. Cold and calculating, the eyes seemed to take in every detail of his appearance and whether he would be suitable prey; they were the eyes of a killer. At first Jungkook thought they might belong to a wolf or bear, but such creatures did not roam the mountains near his home – especially not any the perfect white of the snowstorm. Gumiho and snow wraiths were a more likely possibility, but something in the hollow of his soul said those eyes could not belong to a mere demon. It seemed as though Death himself walked through the storm.

As the figure approached, the face those eyes belonged to became visible. The man’s features were sharp and angular, even the line of his cupid’s bow cut with a razor’s edge. Only the line of his nose, rounded at the tip, broke the hardness of his face, but even that did nothing to soften his appearance. And skies, it was no wonder Jungkook had not been able to distinguish the man from the snow: He was practically ice embodied. His skin was as fine and translucent a white as China in a museum; the snow appeared sullied next to his flesh. The lengths of his hair were, somehow, even brighter a white than his skin. If Jungkook were more poetic, he might have thought it was like moonlight or finely spun silver, but in his addled state all he could think was “shiny.” While perhaps not the most romantic description, it was at least apt because the man’s hair practically glittered in the semi-darkness of the night. The white motif was finished in the man’s attire: white from stitch to hem. Jungkook’s lips twitched slightly. At least he was going to die at the hands of an individual who was extremely committed to his aesthetic. Because, really, the gooseflesh on his arms and the fear quaking through his body belied that this man, slight though he seemed, was a more dangerous predator than the young vampire could ever hope to be. What else could he offer Jungkook but a faster death than he would find in the arms of starvation? A small, crooked smile turned the brunet’s lips as the other man came to a stop at his side. “Make… make it fast,” he managed to murmur before his eyes rolled back into his head. The darkness took him at last.

.✝.

Waking was nothing like falling in love. Waking was the dragging depression of heartbreak, the refusal to move on, the lingering to hold onto something that could never last. Waking was a wench.

As Jungkook crawled out of the seemingly endless darkness of unconsciousness, his body made its protests known in the creaking of every joint and the ache of his bones. He had not felt that awful since the day he died. Groaning, he managed to roll over and bury his face in a pillow. The vampire froze. A pillow? Opening his eyes, he found himself laying in a bed that could almost pass for a snow drift – wide and white. Rolling onto his back, he gave into curiosity’s demand that he at least look around the room. Admittedly, there was not a great deal to see from his vantage point. High ceilings scraped nearly out of sight, only the soft light of what he assumed was dawn, making the white marble surfaces blush with the faintest hues of pink. The floor – also marble – was completely bare, and even the large fireplace on the opposite wall was all sharp, minimalist lines. It felt like he was sitting in a very beautiful ice box, utterly void of any trace of warmth or personality.

The vampire startled when he noticed the man, still dressed completely in white, sitting on an angular leather chair that looked as uncomfortable as it was chic. It, like everything else, was the color of driven snow. Some distant corner of Jungkook’s mind gathered enough energy to wonder if he was hallucinating; it would be just like him to invent a snow prince in a palace of ice. Jungkook snorted at himself. Well, at least if he was going to invent something in his last moments of life, he was at least both creative and detailed.

“Something amusing you?” The sound of those words, curled out in a low rasp, made Jungkook’s eyes go wide. There was a piercing staccato underlying the smooth furl of those words, the way the syllables dripped off the speaker’s tongue like poison, that made the terror resurface in his sleep-addled body. As Jungkook began to quiver, the stranger placed a slim ivory placeholder between the pages of his book before setting it aside. “Nevermind. I am simply glad you were able to make it. I was admittedly quite concerned that you would not have the strength necessary.” The stranger watched him with that sword-edge gaze. “You require nourishment. I was able to feed you some while you slept, but it will take several weeks of consistent meals to return your body to full strength.” Pale, nearly silver eyes lingered on the bird-like lines of the young vampire’s wrists. Rather than answer, though, Jungkook turned his face away, baring his neck. He would rather the other finish him off than bother with living. A strange, feral sound slid past the stranger’s lips. “Jeongguk. You must eat.”

The brunet startled. “What did you call me?” the ragged rasp of his voice falling past his chapped lips.

“Jeongguk. Your name,” came the droll reply.

“How did you—” His throat protested his hurried question, causing him to cough helplessly.

“How did I know your name?” Jungkook managed a halting nod. “Because I am aware of your story. A promising student – double major in music and dance. You were just twenty years old, had the entire world in front of you, when it was all ripped from your hands. A vampire attacked you without provocation on your way home from a late night practice, turning you against your will. Suddenly you lost your job, your scholarship, and even your soulmate.” A long, pale finger drug across the inside of Jungkook’s wrist, tracing the characters written there.

Jungkook gasped. The shock was so profound it burned past the numbness of his despair, filling him instead with chilling dread. “How?”

Sighing, the blond moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You certainly seem to enjoy that word,” he drawled. “But to answer your question, I am the Warden,” he began, his low voice curling in husky satori. “The vampiric council has a Warden in each nation – a judge, if you will, who makes certain the laws are upheld among our kind. We administer justice, authorize turnings, and make restitution for crimes.” At this, Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. Vampires could commit crimes? He had been raised to believe that vampires were without law, without conscience. As though sensing his thoughts, the Warden sighed ever so slightly. “Like your illegal turning. I am sorry it has taken so long for me to contact you – the first months after the change must have been very difficult without your Maker – but I was…detained.”

The shock bled into uneasy confusion. There were so many things the young vampire could not wrap his thoughts around, but the idea that his turning had been illegal (and some secret vampire council knew about it, about him) was particularly unfathomable. Unable to process the deluge of information, Jungkook curled in on himself and rolled onto his side – back turned to the Warden. Illegal or not, his turning had destroyed his every chance for happiness. He just wanted his suffering to end. Behind him, the Warden sighed. “Jeongguk. I understand things have been a bit difficult, but I promise your life is not over. You have many opportunities ahead of you yet.”

The young vampire scoffed. “What do you know about my life?” he growled. “I have nothing to live for.”

At that, a frown found its way onto the Warden’s lips – faint but a decided downward curl. “You wish to end your life?” The words fell heavily into the silence, hitting like coins into a fountain. Jungkook nodded. “That is why you are starving,” The Warden said slowly. “You were attempting suicide.”

“What do you care?” Jungkook mumbled weakly, ignoring the tug under his ribcage at the sound of quiet horror in the Warden’s voice. “No one wanted me to turn. Nobody wants anything to do with me now that I’ve turned. I’m a waste.”

A silence as long as the late afternoon shadows fell between them. Not even the sound of breathing broke the silence in the air; Jungkook was holding his breath, and the Warden simply did not breathe. “I believe,” the Warden said at long last, measuring his words before he spoke, “you would be surprised at how needed you are. How many reasons you have to live. Give me a chance to prove it to you. Three months. Just give me three months. If at the end you still wish to die, I will end your life humanely and quickly.” Three months: as long as it had been since his turning.

Rolling over, the brunet considered the older vampire. “One month,” he bargained.

The Warden narrowed his eyes. “Three.” His voice was cutting and hard – an obsidian blade between the ribs. Goosebumps broke out once more on Jungkook’s flesh; his body screamed “predator! predator! predator!” Huffing, the young man nodded. “Excellent. I will set the table. I hope you are not opposed to soup. Seokjin said that would be the kindest meal to begin you on.

“Whatever,” Jungkook muttered sullenly into the pillow. 

The Warden sighed but otherwise gave no reply. Jungkook heard the retreat of the man’s footsteps – stillness filling the room once more in his absence. Time crawled on until, at last, the door whispered open on its well-oiled hinges. The salty, bright scent of seawood soup filled the air, causing Jungkook to wrinkle his nose as he fought the urge to gag. But, instead, he tried to shuffle himself upright – tried being the operative word. “Give me a moment, and I will assist you,” the Warden called. Grumbling under his breath, the brunet ceased moving and waited for the older man to draw near. Long, pale fingers curled around Jungkook’s shoulders, helping to pull him fully upright with surprising strength. Jungkook hissed at the sudden electricity that rippled through his body as white skin met bronze through one of the holes in the younger vampire’s shirt; it felt as though the very hollow of his bones had been set aflame, and his eyes sizzled with pain so intense his vision sparkled at the edges. And there, matching the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat, came a word echoing through his thoughts: Yoongi. Jungkook’s chapped lips parted, and the name fell into the air between them. The Warden froze, seemingly becoming carved from marble his lack of movement was so complete. “What did you say?” he breathed. Jungkook repeated the name. Carefully, the Warden helped the brunet lean back against the headboard before sitting on the edge of the bed. “That,” he said slowly, “is my name.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to look surprised. He did not know much about vampires – he had preferred to sleep through those classes in high school – but even he knew how carefully most vampires guarded their names. There were stories of what one could make a vampire do with a vial of their blood and their given name. Jungkook had intentionally chosen a name close to his given name: What better way to hide it? No vampire would be so crazy as to flaunt their real name; it was too dangerous. Surely a vampire as old and powerful as the Warden would have kept his name an absolute secret. “How?” Jungkook stuttered, the word nearly meaningless for how often it had slid past his lips. “How did I even know that?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would say that it was merely your powers manifesting. You do show signs of a telepath, after all. But…this is something else entirely. Something I will tell you when you are ready to know.” A faint hint of a smile curled the edges of the blond’s thin lips. “I have not heard my name in so long – I had nearly forgotten what it sounded like.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please tell me - I'd particularly love to hear any theories you might have. I will at least finish out the main arc of the story - probably three chapters? - but if you want more, please let me know.


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